


17. Stay with me

by titC



Series: Whumptober 2019 [17]
Category: Daredevil (TV), The Punisher (TV 2017)
Genre: Gen, whumptober2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-17
Updated: 2019-10-17
Packaged: 2020-10-24 17:51:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20710109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/titC/pseuds/titC
Summary: Frank isn't at his best when he meets Maggie.





	17. Stay with me

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to [Whumptober](https://whumptober2019.tumblr.com/) for organizing it and [PixelByPixel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/) for the beta!  
Also counts for my DaredevilBingo prompt _Clinton Church_.

“Stay with me.”

He’d heard that voice before, but where? Didn’t matter. He didn’t care. Frank let himself slide down into –

“No, don’t, c’mon, look at me; tell me I’m an idiot, yeah? Frank! Frank, stay with me, all right?”

Whoever it was, they weren’t shutting up. Pain in the ass. “F’you,” he managed.

“Sure, yes, that’s good; you’re talking, keep talking, we’re almost there.”

There where? Frank didn’t give a shit. He was shaken up and down, left and right; everything was painful. Couldn’t remember what he’d been doing, only that it was done and so it was over. It was all over. He could hear voices, other voices, voices he’d missed so much; he closed his eyes and reached out with his hand and then nothing.

Bright light in his face, something on fire in his side. He tried to move, but it only made everything more painful. He stayed put.

“He’s awake,” a woman said.

“I know.”

“He’ll live.”

Frank wasn’t so sure, but it didn’t matter.

“You saved him.”

“_You_ brought him here.”

“I wasn’t going to let him bleed out!” Anger. Fear?

Frank tried to bring a hand to his face, rub his eyes; but there was too much gauze and wrapping around everything. “Fuck,” he managed.

“Welcome back, Frank.”

“Ugh.”

“He’s a charmer, your friend.”

“Ma’am.” Could he stand up? He should. He managed to wiggle a foot.

“Don’t you _dare_ move and undo all my hard work.” Sounded like a woman who wouldn’t tolerate anything less than compliance, and would even enforce it if he tried anything.

Frank fought to slit open his eyes, and he saw… a veil? “Sister?”

“Yes. You can call me Maggie, if you’d rather.”

He turned his head gingerly. An angel statue, stacked chairs, stained glass further away. “Shit.”

“He’s about as well-mannered as you are,” she said.

He sort of rolled his head to the other side, and… “Red.”

“Hi.” Asshole wiggled his fingers at Frank.

“A fucking church.”

“Under one, yes.”

“Goddamn altar boy.”

“_And_ he’s even more foul-mouthed than you are,” the nun added. “Didn’t think it was possible, but there we are.”

“I’m not that bad!”

She smirked but didn’t answer. Red could probably feel it or something anyway, because he was frowning at the glass of water in his hands.

“Why a church?” Sure, Red was a fan, but that was a bit much.

“Why not?”

“Fuck it.” Frank squinted at the nun. “Sorry.”

“I’ve lived in the Kitchen all my life; I’m not going to faint at every ‘fuck’ I hear.”

“I distinctly remember being punished for using such words.”

“You were a child under our care, Matthew. The choices you make as an adult are yours, good or bad.”

Frank sighed. Red was chatty enough, but Red _and_ a nun? He was feeling too much like shit to be amused. “Shouldn’t’ve brought me here,” he said. Too many words at once for his throat; he coughed. “I’m leaving.”

“You’ll do no such thing, not in the state you’re in.”

“You're not my mother.”

“I’m the one who worked hard so you wouldn’t bleed out to death, and you’re not going to throw that away out of some misplaced pride.”

“You can stay here, Frank. No one will find you.”

“Got a job to do.” There always was one, right?

“You’re not in any shape to go after anyone!” 

Oh yeah? “Watch me, Red.”

He tried to sit up, but the Sister managed to keep Frank flat on his back with just a hand on his chest. She was about as big as David’s girl, too; Frank tried not to feel too humiliated. “It’s annoying, isn’t it, Matthew?” she asked.

Red was picking at the rope around his hands to take it off. “What is?”

“People too proud to accept help when it’s freely given.”

“I’m not proud.” How could Frank make her see? “I’m putting you in danger just by being here.”

“God help us all,” she said. “You, stay put. Matthew, come here, let me look at your shoulder.”

“It’s fine.”

“You’ll let me be the judge of that.”

Altar boy pouted, but he shuffled to her and meekly sat on the stool while she assessed his wound, tutted at him, and put in a few stitches. “Thank you,” he mumbled.

“There, that wasn’t so bad, was it? Letting someone else help.”

“I’ve let you help me before.”

“You were unconscious most of that time. Not that you’d remember, I suppose.”

“What the fuck did you do, Red?”

“It’s a long story.” He slipped on a sweatshirt the nun handed him. “I’m going home, I got court in the morning. Foggy will kill me if I’m late.”

“You’re leaving your grumpy friend to me, then?”

“I’m sure he’ll do as he’s told. Right, Frank?”

Frank wanted to knock that cocky smile off his face. It was taunting him from under the stupid mask he’d just put back on; altar boy probably knew he wouldn’t do anything to the nun.

“Next time, Red. Just you wait.”

“Aw, with bated breath!” And then he was gone, as if he’d melted away in the shadows.

The nun shook her head. “I don’t know who he takes his love of dramatics from,” she said.

“You knew his parents?”

She looked down her nose at him. “I did,” she said after a while. “Now, will you stop trying to escape while you can’t even stand on your feet?”

_Regroup_, Frank thought. He was offered shelter, safety, first aid, a place to rest and recuperate. _Just for tonight, then I’m out._

“Yeah. Thank you. You don’t have to help me. Appreciate it.”

“I’m a nun. Helping is in the job description.” She put a pitcher of water and a cup near the cot and shook another blanket over him. “I’ll be back in a few hours to check on you. Don’t do anything too stupid,” she said before leaving. “I’ll know.”

He believed her, and thought maybe he could also trust her and stay. Just for tonight.

* * *

A few weeks later, Frank found Murdock unconscious and bleeding on the floor of a warehouse Frank had just cleaned. Red was in his civvies, although his usual glasses and cane were nowhere to be found. Fuckers had gone after the lawyer, looked like. Well, even without his face sock he had his fair share of enemies. Those particular ones would not be a problem anymore thanks to Frank’s strategic application of bullets, but he wasn’t about to let the blind idiot die here. Karen would never forgive him, for a start.

“Hey, altar boy. Wake up.”

That got him a groan.

“Yeah, that’s it, come on, do it.”

Red’s eyes were rolling under the lids, his lips moving. He groaned again, then his hand moved. He tried to speak and only managed something that might have been Frank’s name.

“You got it, that’s me. Can I move you? Where are you hurt, Red?”

“Sure,” he managed.

Good enough. “All right. Stay with me, okay? You stay with me.”

Frank hoisted Red over his shoulder and hurried to his van. What should he do with him? Something glinted at the altar boy’s throat when he threw him in the passenger seat. Frank looked at it and almost laughed out loud when he saw it was: a little golden crucifix.

“That’s how it is, huh. Fine.” Red wouldn’t want the hospital anyway. “No, don’t you dare – talk to me, Red.”

The drive to the church wasn’t long, and the nun was at the door before he tried to push it open.

“Follow me,” she said before leading him down to the basement he half-remembered. He hadn’t been at his best then and his memory was a bit blurry; but seeing Red on the cot and the Sister snapping gloves on brought some things back. “I’m not sure I want to know what happened.”

“Those assholes won’t touch him again.”

She stared at him for a moment, and he couldn't tell whether she approved or not. “God rest their souls,” she finally said. Then Red made a small noise, and she went to work.

He hadn’t been too badly injured, after all. He’d lost too much blood and he had a big fucking lump on the back of his skull, but Frank was pretty sure he’d be back throwing himself off rooftops in no time. Probably as soon as he woke up, even.

The nun, Maggie, took her gloves off and got another pair out. “Your turn.”

“I’m good.”

“You’re covered in blood.”

“Not mine.” She raised her eyebrows, and he sighed. Fine. “It’s nothing,” he said as he let her clean and put in butterfly stitches on the cut over his eyebrow.

“Did you plan on walking the streets looking like that?”

“People don’t fuck with me.”

“No, I bet they don’t.” She moved on to the scraped skin on his forearm. “You certainly look fearsome enough with all that blood, but take it off and you’re less Punisher, more Frank.”

“I’m not who I used to be.”

“A father? A husband?”

Frank grunted. He didn’t want to talk about Maria and the kids. “He tell you about that?”

“You made the news a few years ago. I don’t live under a rock, you know.”

“They’re dead.”

“You’re not.”

He shrugged. He didn’t really feel alive, either. “I’m not that guy anymore. I’m this one, now,” he said, waving at himself and the blood-streaked white skull on the vest he hadn’t taken off.

“You still care. You care enough you want to make this world safer for other people; you care enough you brought Matthew here. You didn’t have to, but you did. It’s enough to make you stay here.”

Here with the living, here in New York, here under this church? Whatever. “I’m not staying.”

“Of course not, what was I thinking?” She peeled off her gloves. “Father Lantom used to make lattes, but I prefer Irish coffees. Two aren’t more work than one, if you’d feel like one.”

“You’re not going to try and make me talk, are you?”

“I’m a nun, not a shrink.”

Frank looked down at Red. He was conked out on the cot where Frank himself had been, not so long ago. “He asked so many questions, the first time we talked. He’s never shut up since.”

“He does like the sound of his voice. It’s probably why he’s a lawyer now.”

“Yeah.” Maybe the nun was okay too. At least she was making fun of Red; it was a good start. “I’d like that. The coffee,” he said.

He’d stay with them for a little while, at least.


End file.
